Hi, I figured I’d house all my submissions to the Pacific War Room here for quick reference. Here’s February 1st’s submission:

Greetings sports fans, it me, John Scott super fan #1.

The Flames lost twice before going on break. I don’t really care though, I was more excited about the end of the week more than anything. Somehow they managed to only surrender two goals against the Stars which is impressive given Dallas wins most games 9-7 or something.

The Flames are literally nowhere different than they were a year ago. They were a turd floating around other turds last season. This season, the Pacific looks like a toilet in Flint Michigan. If the team decides to sell at the deadline (which is the smart thing to do), they’ll be in for a tank race with the rest of Canada. I’m sure at some point between Vancouver to Toronto  we’ll see a hockey recreation of the Battle of Kursk. History nerds put down your spreadsheets and Corsi and go read a history book.

What will improbably but probably happen is this:

  • Flames go on amazing push down the stretch
  • They trade maybe one or two players a-la-Curtis Glencross of last season (LOOKIN’ AT YOU, KRIS RUSSELL)
  • Make the playoffs (barely) and crush some lowly group of idiots in the first round before losing in the second round again

But then, if matters couldn’t improve (it got worse), Dennis Wideman decided to Matt Cooke/Zac Remaldo a referee after a hit from Shea Weber. Oh, and they lost but no big deal.

So let’s talk about that friends because it sets the Flames up for a couple things. The main thing of course is hoping Don Henderson is okay. But hey, he didn’t see the ref until the last moment. Seriously, that’s the worst excuse ever. I had a better excuse when my parents found me without pants, passed out, and covered in my own urine once. Concussions aren’t fun, I myself have had six that I can count of. That said I initially defended ol’ Dennis Wideman because I figured:

Hey, he’s a reasonable adult, he might have been feeling the ill effects of a potential concussion (it’s likely one, Mike, stop being an idiot)!

But then I remembered the most basic tenant of assessing hockey players: They’ll probably do something dumb. Wideman did that and now we’re sitting back and waiting for the repercussions. It’ll either be 10 games, 20 games, or something far worse. It puts the team in an awful situation too, because now you’re going to have a little bit harder time of moving the guy who can barely skate or do anything correctly. He can barely skate as is, his defensive impact is like giving the opposing team an extra forward, and I wish I could ship him up north to live on a farm.

Oh well, I mean the week could get better right? RIGHT? Well first we had to deal with Tyler Seguin giving some awful dating tips/advice/things you should never think or do. Basically if we all followed Seguin’s way of life we’d all have syphilis. From there it was the ASG break, which gave us the joy we all wanted in life: John Scott. Everyone wrote their own poetic about John Scott, myself included via relentless tweeting, but Stace nails it very perfectly here.

In the end Gaudreau played well with Hall which begs the question: Just how can Brad Treliving fleece Peter Chiarelli out of Taylor. I mean Taylor barely knows boat safety or how to distinguish a mannequin from a human so his value is not that high. Mark Giordano was silent for much of the night because this wasn’t his stage, which is okay. He’ll just try and have a strong season and get more legitimate Norris attention than Drew Doughty.

And finally, in closing:

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